Godzilla: An American Retelling
by FreeHandMan06
Summary: A rewrite of the original Gojira with a slightly different story and in an American setting, but preserving the message of the original.


Obligatory disclaimer: I do not own Godzilla or any of its related products, etc, Toho does.

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"…OS! S…!"

Freddy Montoya tuned the radio in front of him. A desperate signal was coming from an American vessel somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico. The first sign had come in less than a minute ago and he had been frantically trying to clear the static and fully receive the transmission. "Please repeat," he spoke into the microphone, "I say again, please repeat. What is your position?"

"…God! We…fire! Be…acked! SOS!"

The dial slowly inched back and forth, searching for the correct frequency. "Please repeat. What is your position?"

"SOS! The se…in…mes!" The sailor continued the one sided transmission as the dial finally rung true and found the frequency, "This is the _Lucky Lady No. 5_! The crew is dead! There was a blinding flash and then everything was on fire! Oh, God, HEL-!"

The man was cut off as Freddy heard the rush of water on the other side before the signal died entirely. He twisted and turned the dial, attempting to reclaim any transmission that still might have been out there. "Please repeat. Lucky Lady, do you read me? Please respond. What is position?" But the ship was gone.

Godzilla 

Sean Francis sat back in his chair. In front of him sat the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes upon. Her name was Emily Yatsko. He wished he could be talking to her right now, as he had been only minutes before. However, fate had intervened, and Sean was locked in a phone conversation with the head of the finance department. That was what came with being assistant head of shipping for a branch of a major corporation such as IGF, otherwise known as Inter-Generational Foods, Inc.

"Yes, I understand what this means," he told the suit on the other end of the line, "A captain failing to harbor and report in at night could be a major problem. I'm sure he just forgot to put in." Having to cover up for the mistakes of cheap, drunkard captains was one of the major parts of Sean's life. The lame excuses almost flew off his tongue. He pretty much had one for every situation, and one that wouldn't get the guy in too much trouble, allowing him to feed his obsession with booze for another day.

"Well, if he doesn't check in, it could also mean we lost him, which would mean we lost the shipment, which would cost a lot of money, not to mention the cost of workmen's comp, ship replacement, press cover up, and the loss of potential investors." It was always about the money with these people. "So you better find him, and find him soon, clear?"

"Yeah," Sean nodded to himself, "I got it." He dropped the phone back on its cradle and looked up at Emily. She could guess what was about to happen now. "I'm sorry," Sean sighed, "But work calls again. I'm going to have to postpone our date for a while." He pulled the two tickets out of his khakis and handed them across the desk to Emily. They had been planning this for weeks, but Sean couldn't forget his job to go out with her. Emily would understand.

She gave a half-hearted smile as her face fell. "I know how important your job is." She stood up and put the tickets in her pocketbook that matched the flowery red dress she wore.

Sean also stood up, grabbing the shirt and tie off the coat rack behind him and beginning to put them on over his undershirt. "Maybe you could bring your father," He offered, "I know how much he enjoys the classics."

Emily shook her head, somberly, but never deserted her smile. "No, the museum has him working late tonight. They just received a new collection from their site in Montana and they're having father perform some cataloguing and restoration. He'll be up there until late tomorrow."

"Well, I really am sorry," he walked up to her and clasped her on the shoulder, "See you tomorrow, then?"

Emily's smile became genuine as she nodded. "Yes. Don't forget to bring money. You're buying lunch."

Sean chuckled lightly. "Lunch it is then." He stepped past her and pulled the door open. She moved gracefully through the opening and down the hallway, out of sight. Sean closed the door and, running his hands through his hair, let out a sigh of displeasure. He walked back over to his desk and sat down, adjusting the tie and stiff collar. As a former sailor, he'd never really had to wear this sort of attire and eighteen months in the offices had failed to change that.

The phone in front of him rang again. Sean hesitated for a second, thinking it may have been the man from finances again. He quickly picked it up after realizing that the call back would be even more awkward. "Francis, shipping."

"Sean," the voice sounded, and a wave of relief washed over him, "It's Don." Don Sanderson was one of his understudies. He mainly kept track of any press that was getting out about the captains, the ships, or their cargo. He also kept tabs on rumors and served as the primary recipient of phone calls, involving the above matters, from outside the corporation. The two had actually developed quite a friendship over the past year, when Don first joined this wing. While he hadn't been a sailor, Don had been active all of his life and spent a lot of time around water, just not in it. He was actually afraid of depths, which was why he got an office job.

"What's the news, Don?" Sean hoped it was good news. Good news usually didn't come through Don, though. "I hope it's good."

"You know it isn't." It was worth a shot. "And it's worse than usual." That was especially bad, considering Don's good news would account to below average news anywhere else.

"Do we have a situation?"

"Oh, yeah."

"How bad?" Sean gulped. If Don's tone were any indication, real bad.

"Just got this on the wire from the Gulf coast. A small coast guard outpost picked up an SOS call from a fishing boat identifying itself as the _Lucky Lady No. 5_."

Bingo. Missing ship problem solved. Now it became a sunken ship problem. "Do we have a copy of the _Lady_'s SOS call?"

"No. The message was incredibly grainy the guy said. He could barely make out any words and only got the last few sentences in static free."

"Did we at least get them?"

"Yeah, right here. Quote: 'This is the _Lucky Lady No. 5._ The crew is dead. There was a blinding flash and then everything was on fire.' End quote. He said the transmission cut out after that."

Sean massaged his temple. So a captain hit a mine or something, the ship caught on fire and it sank. Another drunken captain and lazy crew that didn't do their job right and ended up dead because of it. He'd have to talk to Fran about her choice of vessels. "So, in your esteemed opinion, are we looking at a full blown ship-wreck here?"

Don waited for a second before answering. "In my opinion, yes we are. The press will have a field day with this, marketing and finance will both suffer hugely, and the rest of the company in turn."

"Alright, Don," Sean shook his head. Emily would have to wait a while before their next date. This would take days. "Thanks for the info."

"Sorry to always be the bearer of bad news," Don sounded sincere on the other side of the line, "I know how much time this is gonna cost you. This has to be killing Emily."

"Yeah. I know she's not too happy about it, but she doesn't say anything."

"You're lucky you have her, Sean. You know that, don't you?"

"How could I not? But I've gotta get to making those calls. Thanks again, Don."

"Good luck, Sean." The phone clicked and a dial tone took the place of Don's voice. Sean pressed down on the disconnect button and then reached for the keys and punched in a few numbers. "Lisa, it's Sean," he said before the person on the other end could speak.

"Oh, hi Sean. What can I do for you?"

"Is Mr. Federko in yet?"

"Yeah, he came in an hour ago. You want me to put you through?"

Federko was in early today. Maybe he'd heard of the sinking already. "Sure." Even if Federko already knew, they'd still have to discuss how to proceed from here. The best course of action would be to send out a rescue ship or two before declaring them lost at sea.

"Xavier Federko," the man announced.

"Mr. Federko, it's Sean Francis down at shipping. Uh, I thought you-,"

Federko cut him off, "Yes, I know of the lost ship. I'm heading down to the tracking room right now, actually. We're receiving reports from a rescue ship in the area. Meet me down there."

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1st chapter, read and review please.


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